


if you're galra and you're gay then who's flying the plane??

by The_Onion_Wanton



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coming Out, Lance is trying, allura needs time, au in which they have a weekend off before fighting zarkon or smth, blade of marmora blowover, furry discourse 2k17, keith is galra and that's a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:47:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Onion_Wanton/pseuds/The_Onion_Wanton
Summary: “Are you really,” Keith’s voice came out strained. “Comparing yourself coming out to Hunk to me telling Allura I belong to the race that killed her entire people?”Lance shut his mouth.Well, when you put it that way.





	

Keith could feel the eyes on his back even across the room, even with his eyes fixated on the floor and arms aching; he amped up the tempo of his push-ups, deliberately ignoring whomever it was at the door.

_Probably not Allura_ , a voice in his head quipped— ever since he had walked off that ship and Shiro explained what had happened (per Keith’s requests — “Please, I can’t do it—” “You don’t have to.”) she seemed to find it impossible to even look at him; he honestly doubted she’d willingly expose herself to his presence.

A wave of anger— he pushed it down, _she had a damn good reason_ it wasn’t him _it was people like him_ he’d never _her planet was dead_ he wasn’t—

“Alright, Sergio Oliva, how about a break?” It was Lance— laughing, but with that strain in his voice that no one seemed able to drop ever since — since. “Not that I’m unused to you showing off but you might need to stop there.”

Keith closed his eyes, inhaled. “What do you want?”

“Um, well.” Footsteps, Lance walking across the room. Keith flipped over to his back, exhaled. “I was going to get something to eat but was then distracted by your extravagant display of self-abnegation and—”

Keith sat up, scowled. “I don’t think you know what that word means.”

“And, hey, I get working out— I mean,” Lance paused then to flex, and Keith nearly snorted. “But it kind of seems to me like you might be pushing yourself too hard?” A beat. “Ha. _Push-upping_.”

Keith didn’t react.

“Right,” Lance rolled his eyes. “You don’t do jokes, nearly forgot.”

Keith couldn’t— didn’t want — _ugh_. “Why are you here?” 

Lance scowled, for barely a second, and then the smug smile was back on. “Already told you, I was passing by—”

“Your room,” Keith spoke, slowly. “Is closer to the kitchen. You wouldn’t—”

“Maybe I wasn’t in my room? Why do you even know where my room is—” Lance sighed, threw his head back. “God, it’s a free country, I can walk where I want?”

“Technically,” Keith couldn’t help himself. “We’re in Space, and it’s being rapidly colonized.”

“You really are no fun.”

“So I’ve been told.”

A moment of silence. Keith watched Lance, hoped he’d leave— the latter showed no intention of doing that anytime soon.

He did stare, though; his eyes couldn’t seem to focus on Keith’s eyes, but trailed downwards, towards— what? His shoulders? Hands? 

_Looking for claws?_ That bitter voice, again. _Didn’t sprout them overnight, skin didn’t turn purple either—_

Lance’s eyes trailed back up, accidentally caught Keith’s; he looked away, face flushing. 

“Lance.” Keith hated how tired his voice sounded.

“What?” Lance looked back; Keith could see the literal effort it took for him to keep his eyes on Keith’s. “Look, I get that your people colonized like half this galaxy and all but this castle operates under the American law and—”

Keith was up at his feet before he could think twice; didn’t miss, though, the way Lance flinched, the flicker of — fear?

_Of course he’s afraid, they’re all afraid, they let a Galra into their heads_

Keith kept his eyes locked on the floor, left the room without another word.

__

“He hates me,” Lance was sprawled across the kitchen counter, mouth stuffed with the raw space-dough Hunk was modeling into cookies. “He hates me and will probably tell Shiro on me.”

“What are you, twelve?” Pidge snorted, not taking her eyes on the alterian vocabulary hologram she had displayed before her. “And Shiro is not our babysitter, relax.”

“‘What are you, twelve’,” Lance mimicked. “Did you forget you’re fourteen? You don’t get to use that joke until you’re legally allowed in high school.”

Pidge looked up from the weird-letters on her eLearner, or whatever that could be called, face unimpressed. “You do understand I was admitted into the same academy as you, right?”

“Yes, but—” He forgot having a discussion with Pidge came with inevitable humiliation. “You probably hacked your way in, or something!”

She smirked, eyes back to the screen. “Nothing you can prove.”

He scoffed.

“Now, now.” Hunk reached over, patted his cheek with one flour-y hand. “I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.”

“Thanks,” Lance smiled. “Even if you did just clog like, at least ten of my pores?”

Hunk laughed. 

“He’s going through a thing, Lance.” Pidge sighed. “He just learned he’s a half-alien, that’s probably a lot to take in.”

“Yeah!” Hunk agreed. “And not just any alien!”

“True,” Lance pouted. “Still.”

“And Allura— well.” Pidge leaned back in her chair, apparently done with her language lesson. “I know she has her reasons but she’s really not being easy on him.”

“Yeah, that must suck.” Hunk grimaced, sighed. “Honestly, I get him being a little defensive.”

“Yes, but—” Lance sighed. “But!”

“Butt,” Pidge whispered.

“Nice one, Pidge, but not even that can make me laugh right now.”

“Buttbutt.”

Lance _refused_ to laugh. 

“I know you think you're trying to help— in your way— probably.” Hunk was putting the second tray in the oven. “But, come on, dude.”

Lance sat up. “Come on _what_?”

“You have a tendency to be a bit— um.” Hunk made a vague hand gesture.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“You know.”

Lance was going to scream. “Um, clearly, I don’t?”

“Antagonizing,” Pidge supplied. “And he’s completely socially inept, so that’s bound to work fantastically.”

“Uh, look who’s talking?”

“Hey, I know my weakness.” Pidge smiled. “My only weakness.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Wanna go?”

“Sorry, am I supposed to cower before your four foot eleven spaghetti hand frame?”

“Guys,” Hunk interrupted— Pidge pulled a face. “And girls.”

“Thanks, Hunk.”

“No prob— as I was saying.” Hunk leaned in. “If you want to talk to Keith, maybe do it without any of your regular shenanigans?”

Okay, that was rude. “Which shenanigans?”

“You know which, Lance!” Hunk wasn’t cowering away. Lance needed a new tactic. “Your wanna-be cool stance and smug jokes you know he won’t catch!”

Lance pouted, looked away. “I’m helping him learn.”

“You’re helping yourself laugh!”

“That’s just a bonus and you know it!”

Pidge cleared her throat.

“What?” Lance snapped.

“Keith just passed down the corridor,” she said; her eyes were cast downwards, kind of ruining her chill facade. “Think he might’ve overheard some things.”

Hunk swore; pointed at the door.

Lance frowned. “Uh?”

“Go get him,” Hunk said. “Tell him we’re making cookies and I want his help.”

“But—”

“Lance!”

He felt his shoulders slump; yeah, maybe he was being dramatic but he had a right to be, _it was a dramatic situation_. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who came in whining about him,” Pidge said. 

Hunk looked smug.

“You both suck,” Lance told them, crawled off the counter.

“We know.” 

“Not as much as you?” 

He flipped them both off exiting the kitchen.

__

It took a small drumming solo against Keith’s door and a promise that Lance had all day for Keith to let him in; he looked tired, refused to meet Lance’s eyes.

“Hey,” Lance said; his voice was weirdly soft and it was freaking him out. “Um, Hunk’s making cookies, and asked if you’d like to—”

Keith scoffed.

Lance scowled. “Hey, now—”

“Tell Hunk he doesn’t need to— whatever it is he’s doing.” Keith made a move to close the doors. “Thanks for the offer, though?”

Lance stopped the doors; kind of felt like Keith didn’t particularly mind.

“Keith,” he said. “Buddy.”

Keith rolled his eyes, mouthed a ‘ha’.

“What’s going on with you?”

Keith fixed him with a glare then— Lance guessed he deserved it.

His eyes were _really_ red, though.

“Were you—” crying, no, don’t ask him that. “Keith.”

“Drop it, Lance.” Keith made another move to close the doors, this time putting some force into it. “I’m just tired.”

“Yes, doing million push-ups a minute will do that to you,” Lance shoved his way into Keith’s room. “Let’s talk.”

Keith didn’t move from the doors.

Lance fell onto the— very sloppily made, if he were to notice— bed, grinned. “Come on, we’re paladin-bonding.”

Keith raised an eyebrow.

“Alright,” Lance sat cross-legged, cleared his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

Keith sighed, closed the bedroom doors. “Can I stop you?”

“Nope!" 

Keith leaned against the wall, clearly keeping distance; still wasn’t looking at Lance.

Lance refused to let this bother him.

“When I first met Hunk, I had no idea what kind of a guy he was,” he started. “And, like, he looked like he could squish me with one pinky finger— I wasn’t always a lean mean fighting machine you see before you, you know.”

Keith snorted. _Good start._

“But, the thing was, I figured out I’m really, truly, one hundred percent bi the summer before the academy—”

Keith looked up at that, face unreadable.

Lance felt his words speed up, telltale sign of nervousness, _god damn it calm down_. “Yeah, you know, bisexual, as in—”

Keith’s voice was barely a whisper. “I know what bisexual means.”

“Oh. Okay, good.” Lance swallowed. “Well, I decided to tell Hunk.”

Keith’s eyebrows went up. “Why?”

Lance frowned. “Excuse me?”

“I mean— gah, forget it.” Keith’s shoulders slumped. “Continue.”

“Do you have a problem with me being bi?”

“What—” Keith’s head snapped up. “No!”

“Well, that’s not what it sounds like!” Oh, Hunk was going to have Keith’s head — _in space!!_ — forget Shiro, he was going straight to Coran, he didn’t start his high school’s first GSA to have a straight guy be weirded out _in space_ —

“I don’t have a problem with you liking men!” Keith snapped. Breathed.

“Good!”

“Yeah.” 

A pause.

“Just so you know, Shiro would take my side.” Lance leaned against the wall, only maybe mirroring Keith’s posture.

“I know,” Keith said.

“Good.”

“Good.”

Another pause.

“You were telling a story,” he reminded him.

“Right,” Lance sat up again. “So, yeah, I told him I’m bi right away _because I wanted to_ —”

He made a point of staring at Keith, who rolled his eyes.

“And he was like, hey, man, it’s okay.” Lance felt himself smile— god, Hunk was great?? He’d have to remember to, like, do something nice for him later, you could never cherish your local Hunk too much. “But I still felt like — I don’t know. I still felt like I was making him uncomfortable?”

Keith was watching him. His face was unreadable.

“So I’d...avoid him? Act weird? He caught onto me, soon enough.” Lance shrugged. “Didn’t call me out, though, ‘cause he’s the best, but he’d try to do little things to make me more comfortable.”

Keith was chewing on his cheek. Lance guessed that was...not bad?

“Like, he used gender neutral language when talking about any of my possible partners and changed in front of me without a second thought — one time I said there’s a reason he’s called a hunk and he laughed and hugged me? It was great.”

Keith looked down, smiled. “He does give good hugs.”

Lance beamed; bingo. “And, yeah— basically, the point was,”

“Oh god.”

Lance pointed a finger. “That it was actually me who was uncomfortable with myself and could not accept anyone would feel differently?”

Keith’s smile was gone.

_Fuck._ “So, um...you sure about those cookies?”

“Are you really,” Keith’s voice came out strained. “Comparing yourself coming out to Hunk to me telling Allura I belong to the race that killed her entire people?”

Lance shut his mouth. _Well, when you put it that way._

“‘Cause — I get you’re trying to help, I know, but…” 

“Allura’ll come around, she just needs time, and—” Lance was at his feet, suddenly desperate. “We don’t have any personal hangups, we’re your teammates—”

“Lance.”

“We need to stick together, Keith!” Lance realized he was shouting. _Well._ Might as well. “You can’t— hole yourself up because you’re angsting over your genetics—”

“ _Angsting_ — are you serious?” 

“Okay, maybe bad wording, but—”

“I just—” Keith ran a hand down his face, sighed. “Thanks for the story and— and the cookie offer— I’ll pass, though.”

Lance opened his mouth to speak, gave up.

“Right,” he conceded. “See you around.”

Keith nodded.

Lance paused at the doorway. “I meant it, you know, the team thing?”

“Right.” Keith mustered a smile— god, the boy could not act. “Thanks.”

___

Keith showed up for dinner; Hunk honestly hadn’t seen that coming.

Allura left almost immediately; he’d seen that one coming, though, unfortunately.

“Hey, man.” He waved. “Hurry up, the foods getting cold.”

Keith didn’t look like he had much of an appetite.

It was a quiet meal; Keith ate in silence and quickly, left after a few minutes with nothing but a muttered goodbye. 

“So,” Pidge looked up from the book she’d been pretending to study. “I’m guessing your talk didn’t go over well?”

Lance groaned, slumped forward in his seat.

Shiro looked at him, frowned. “What talk?”

“No talk, never happened.”

“Knock it off, Lance.” Hunk gently shoved him. “We’ve been trying to get Keith to stop isolating himself, but...”

“But,” Pidge joined in.

Hunk shrugged. “Not working.”

“Might be because we keep sending Lance to do it.”

“Yeah.”

“Retrospectively, that was a terrible idea.”

“I hear you, Pidge.”

Lance groaned again.

Shiro swallowed, nodded. “I see.”

“Has he been talking to you?” Pidge asked. “Cause, if not, I’ll get seriously worried.”

“Like you weren’t worried already,” Lance grinned, made a pouty face. “Admit it, Pidge, you see us as your brother figures.”

“Bother figures, maybe!” 

“Ooh!” Hunk extended a hand over to her. “Brooklyn Nine Nine reference, high five!”

She obliged him. _Great kid._

“He just needs time,” Shiro said. “A lot happened yesterday.”

“Tell me about it,” Lance nodded. “And, uh, what about...you know.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow.

“Allura,” Lance leaned in. “Is she telling you anything?”

Shiro sighed. “She needs time too.” 

“And…” Hunk sort of hated himself for speaking up. “You?”

Shiro looked confused.

“Are you...you know.” Hunk shrugged. “Needing time?”

He could pinpoint the moment realization hit Shiro. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

His jaw clenched. “It’s Keith.”

“Yes, but you and Galra have a—”

“Galra, exactly.” Shiro interrupted. “Not Keith.”

A beat. The room was tense.

“Alright,” Hunk slid down into his seat. 

“Man,” Lance pushed his bowl away. “What a meal, but I think I’m full.”

“ _And_ on dish duty, get back here.” Hunk rushed up to his feet, _dude don’t leave me alone_

“Hunk,” Shiro called out; Hunk froze in his tracks.

“Yeah?”

“Do you…” Shiro looked like it pained him to use the overused phrasing. “Need time?”

Hunk took a moment, introspected the fuck out of his mindset. 

“No,” he finally said. “It’s Keith.”

Shiro’s eyes softened. “Good.”

“Yeah.” 

A laugh. “Also, I think Lance is running away from dish duty.”

“What—” _The motherhug!_ Hunk broke into a slight run. “What the fuck, Lance, you can’t run away from me in Space!”  
__

Once the dishes were taken care of, Lance followed a hunch and trailed towards the gym.

Keith was there. Of course he’d be there. Lance couldn’t even tell any longer which part of the odd feeling in his gut was jealousy and which was just the _unfairness_ of how good Keith looked with his stupid hair out of his face.

He stopped doing the sit-ups the moment Lance crossed the doorstep. 

Lance sighed.

“Hey,” Keith scrambled to a sitting position; his chest heaving, shirt damp with sweat. _Ngh._ “Do you need something?”

“Wanted to apologize,” Lance forced himself to keep his eyes glued to the spot between Keith’s eyes; everything else was either way too much or way too inappropriate to look at _or both_. “For equating my thing with Hunk with your, well, um, reveal? I know it’s way bigger, and—” he was rambling. “We’re just really worried about you.”

Keith looked away. “You don’t need to be.”

“Well, that’s a bunch of quiznak but, whatever.”

Keith’s eyes snapped back to his. He looked angry; he looked hot-angry, _fuck_.

“I mean, you’re isolating —”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Keith bit out.

“Keith—”

“Maybe— you know what?” Keith was on his feet. Alright.

Lance stuck out his chin. “Well, I have a feeling you’ll tell me, mister I-Need-No-One Mulletface.”

“Okay, first of all, will you ever let the mullet thing drop?” Keith’s eyes were _burning_. Were they always this purple? Fuck the guy, honestly. “Secondly, maybe I just don’t enjoy being stared at every time I leave the room because _woah, he’s an alien, if you look closely you’ll see his bat ears_ —”

“Wait, wait, hold up.” Lance raised a hand. “Literally no one is doing that.”

Keith snorted.

“What?” Lance threw his hands up. “Who’d— when would we get to do that, you barely spent five minutes with us today!”

“Um,” Keith laughed— wasn’t a happy laugh. “Are you serious right now?”

“Um, pretty serious?”

“You literally can’t even look at me without— hyperfocusing on some weird detail and it’s— it’s not subtle?” Keith crossed his hands, looked away. “And— I’m the same as always? There are no— stop looking for signs because there were none and—”

_Good god._

Well. This was fine, Lance just had to go die now.

“Keith,” he squeaked.

Keith looked up; bit his lip.

_Oh fuck off._ “This is going to be really awkward so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, um, interrupt?”

Keith raised one eyebrow; mouthed a ‘ha’.

“Is this about the— um.” Lance scratched the back of his head. “Last time here?”

Keith rolled his eyes.

“Hey, don’t—”

“Not just here,” Keith interrupted. “Ever since I’ve returned— I mean, Hunk and Pidge stared a little but they lost interest after a while but _you_ —”

Welp.

“And I can tell that you’re trying not to, which almost makes it worse?” Keith slumped. “So. Yeah.”

Lance felt like his face was about to overheat. “How are you so—”

Keith scowled. “Watch it.”

Lance put his face in his hand, muted a scream. 

“Lance.”

“You’re so stupid, god!” He turned around, kept rubbing at his face. “God, god, god.”

“Are you going to try and convince me you’re not staring because, okay, maybe I’m a little on the edge lately but—”

“No, no, I’ve been staring,” Lance turned back around; Keith was, at least, looking a bit uncomfortable too. _Of course he’s uncomfortable, idiot._ Shut up. “It’s just that I’ve been staring since the day we met?”

Keith blinked.

“Back in the Garrison?” Lance laughed. “You know, back when I was a _cargo pilot_?”

Keith wasn’t reacting.

“And, yeah, I was trying not to stare because — uh, creepy much? But,” okay, it was getting super awkward again, bad idea. “Fuck it, I’m a guy, I have eyes, you can do more push-ups in a row than I did in my life _and I work out, okay, I work out a lot_ and it’s just kind of…”

Keith’s face was growing red. He was yet to move a muscle.

“You’re hot,” Lance finished, staring at the ceiling. “So, um. That’s it.” 

“You—” Keith’s voice cracked. “You expect me to buy that?”

Lance was going to scream. “Come on, dude, you have to know you’re hot!”

Keith looked honestly bewildered. “Lance, what the fuck.”

“I’m not— I don’t like, ogle you—” Lance was going to die. Right here. Please. “Okay, maybe a little, but it’s almost always an accident _I’llstopsorryplease_.”

Keith looked like he was having a stroke. “You think I’m hot?”

“Yes, we’ve covered that already?” This was mortifying. This was terrible. Hunk was going to laugh at him _forever_ — so obvious staring at your crush that he thinks you’re searching for Galra tell-tales — _okay no not crush where did that come from_. 

“You’ve thought so since we met?”

Lance whined. “Yes, okay, and you don’t need to worry about me objectifying you any more since I’m pretty sure I’ll legitimately combust if I ever look at you again—”

Keith was in his face. Alright.

“Um, dude—”

He grabbed him by the shirt; Lance met his eyes, more than a little taken aback.

“What the fuck—”

“If you’re lying, last chance to back out is now,” Keith said. 

“Um,” Lance said.

A beat. 

Another beat.

Keith stepped back.

Lance nearly lost his footing. “What the fuck?”

“Sorry,” Keith said.

Lance was losing it. This, whatever this was, was being lost. “What just happened?!”

Keith’s face was red. “I’m so sorry.”

Realization — he’d expected it, heck, maybe fantasized a little— it was still a fucking shock of thunder. “Were you going to kiss me?”

Keith looked away. “Sorry.”

Lance took a deep breath. “Keith.”

Keith looked up.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

Keith looked scared. “Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing!”

“Sorry!”

“ _Mierda._ ”

Keith looked as mortified as Lance felt— or, had been feeling, this was interesting development. “I literally just had a soliloquy about how I’d wanted to climb you for ages—”

“Um.”

“Why do you think you need to apologize for making a move?”

Keith shrugged. “Sorry?”

“Yeah— yeah!” Lance pointed a finger. “You should be!”

Keith closed his eyes, laughed. “Did you really use “climb” in that context?”

“Not what this conversation is about!”

“Sorry.”

“Stop— what the fuck.” Lance took the power stance, clenched his jaw. “Are you even into guys?”

Keith raised one eyebrow. “Clearly?”

“Don’t clearly— how was I to know?”

Keith shrugged again.

“I thought you and Allura were a thing!”

“We— why?” Keith looked like he was struggling to keep laughter back— the asshole.

“You ran away together!”

“Yes, because we thought we were putting you in danger—”

“And now this drama—”

Keith’s face fell — right, sore spot.

“I don’t know, I assumed!”

“You can talk to people without being a,” Keith laughed. “””Thing”” with them, you know?”

“Well, um,” Lance gestured between the two of them. “Clearly?”

Keith flushed again. “But, yeah, no, Allura and I, no.”

Lance raised one eyebrow. “Sounds convincing.”

Keith gave him a tired look.

Lance’s turn to shrug.

“I’m gay,” Keith finally said

Lance felt his heart leap.

“So,” Keith looked away again. “Yeah.”

A beat. Then—

Lance snorted.

Keith’s eyes were on him within a millisecond, glaring. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lance laughed again, _oh god_.

“What?!”

“You’re—” He was laughing too hard. “It’s so dumb—”

“Lance, I swear to god—”

“Gayra,” Lance managed to get it out. “You’re gayra?”

Keith looked torn between punching Lance and throwing himself into the vacuum of space. “Lance.”

“Sorry!” Lance wiped at his eyes, when did he start crying, holy shit. “Just— you told us you were Galra before you told us you liked guys?”

Keith threw his hands in the air. “It never came up!”

Lance was still laughing.

“You didn’t tell me you liked guys either!”

“Well,” Lance finally sobered up. “Told you now.” 

Keith’s face flushed, again.

Lance bit his lip, looked away. “So.”

“So.”

“That kiss.”

Keith hummed.

Lance peeked at him. “Want to— don’t know.”

“Hm?”

“Go through with that?”

Keith raised one eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Hey, you were the one to initiate it.”

“And to call it off, yeah.”

“Well,” Lance looked down. “Disappointing.”

When he looked up, Keith was already watching him.

“We might die tomorrow,” Lance added.

Keith laughed. “That your usual pick-up line?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve been saving it for....” How long had they been in space for now? “A while, for a while!”

Keith laughed again.

Lance was going to pass out. 

“Is it working?”

Keith sighed, walked over.

Lance tensed.

“I just want you to know,” Keith said, before stopping barely an inch away from Lance’s face. “That nothing you’ve ever said helped make this happen, ever.”

__

**the tailor** hey guys quick question

**the-incredible-hunk** Shoot

**the tailor** does sleeping with a galra make me a furry?

**the-incredible-hunk** Shoot me 

**pidgeotto** i don’t know but making me consider this makes you a bad, bad person.

**shiro** uh, what’s a furry?

**the-incredible-hunk** I hope zarkon kills us all

**the-incredible-hunk** At this point we deserve it

**the tailor** i regret everything

**pidgeotto** oh, he’s fucking with you.

**pidgeotto** he knows matt there’s no way he doesn’t know what a furry is.

**the tailor** hey !!!! young lady watch the language

**pidgeotto** sorry!

**pidgeotto** f*rry.

**shiro** what is this about matt?

**pidgeotto** oh my god, did he not tell you about his wolf OCs?

**shiro** i take my question back, don’t want to know.

**the tailor** okay, first of all, animal designs are not furrsonas?

**pidgeotto** oh my god.

**the tailor** secondly, is no one going to comment on the implications of my question?

**pidgeotto** no.

**the-incredible-hunk** No

**shiro** good teamwork, now go to bed.

**the-incredible-hunk** Yessir !

**the-tailor** :(

**the tailor** but seriously now im thinking about it and ?? is that

**the tailor** whats the difference between an interspecies relationship and being a furry

**pidgetto** i feel like i’m too young to be hearing this? shiro??

**shiro** no one is old enough to be hearing this?

**the tailor** pidge u brought up your brothers furrsonas u gotta deal w the consequences

**keith** So, I don’t know how valuable my insight on this might be.

**the-incredible-hunk** Oh my god

**keith** But I’m going to say don’t worry about it?

**keith** I mean, you’re yet to sleep with one and the way this conversation is going you never will.

**keith** So. 

**the-incredible-hunk** asafdgfr keith??

**pidgeotto** okay, what the fuck.

**pidgeotto** did activating that blade equip him with a sense of humour?

**the tailor** :(

**shiro** please go to bed.

**shiro** everyone.

**the tailor** fiiiiiiiiine dad

**shiro** congratulations to the two of you, though.

**the tailor** :’)

**Author's Note:**

> thanks 4 reading! i wrote this the day i bingewatched s2 but never published it ?? here it is now
> 
>  
> 
> (hmu on tumblr @the-onion-slut) (comments are love tnxtnx)


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